


and it's all been done

by Julx3tte



Series: hidden beneath the kissing folds and lily pads [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boundaries Are Important, Consent is Sexy, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Strip Games, carly rae tag, still not smut!!!, unsupervised in a cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: Harry & Ginny play a stripping game, alone in a log cabin, at the end of the fall semester:“Every cup has a dare under it.” Ginny said as she arranged ten cups in a pyramid on her side of the table.“Okay.” Harry picked up a ping pong ball and bounced it on the table, experimentally. “But it’s just water in the cups.”“Which means you have to do the dares.”“Hmmm.” Harry flicked the top of a cup experimentally, then shrugged and took a sip of beer while practicing a throw. “What if I don’t?”Ginny grinned and waited a beat to drop the surprise.“You strip.”





	and it's all been done

**Author's Note:**

> totally not a real life game that exists on the internet...
> 
> special thank you to gryffy for helping me get this one out. It's been sitting in my drafts since November...

“Every cup has a dare under it.” Ginny said as she arranged ten cups in a pyramid on her side of the table. Each of them was filled halfway with water - _because the ball will get on the floor and get in our beer, no thanks_ \- she’d explained.

“Okay.” Harry picked up a ping pong ball and bounced it on the table, experimentally. “But it’s just water in the cups.”

“Which means you have to do the dares.” 

She had borrowed the game from one of the girls she trained with in the offseason, but she’d added a twist after Harry had invited her to spend a weekend at his family cabin. Finals had just finished and they had a few days before the holidays began in proper, so it wasn’t a tough decision at all.

“Hmmm.” Harry flicked the top of a cup experimentally, then shrugged and took a sip of beer while practicing a throw. “What if I don’t?”

Ginny grinned and waited a beat to drop the surprise. 

“You strip.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, and he stopped mid-throwing motion. The ball fell right out of his hands and bounced under the table. “I what now!?”

Ginny didn’t let him recover; she grabbed a ball and took her first shot, landing the cup at the with a perfect _plop_.

“Game on, Potter.”

* * *

“These dares are completely ridiculous Ginny. I’m not going to cut up my credit card.” He was holding a cork coaster with text printed on the bottom.

“That’s a sock then, Potter. And a drink.”

Harry Potter, it turned out, was awful at throwing small round objects into open cups. He was confident that he could kick them in - even from across the room. But throwing objects was far out of his comfort zone. So much so that his first three shots missed.

“Wait,” Harry said, wincing.

“What?” Ginny was already halfway through dipping a ping pong ball in water out of habit.

Harry glanced down at his outfit: a sweater, jeans, and formerly, socks. “We’re going to run out of clothes before we run out of cups.” It was a genuine worry. Despite the fireplace, it wasn’t exactly warm, and he was still hoping they’d make it outside to stargaze later that night. His feet already mourned the loss of socks.

“Then put on some more clothes.” Ginny nailed the same cup, and Harry took it out of his pyramid, taking a sip of beer as penance.

“But what if we run out?” His mouth moved faster than his brain as he realized he was only worried about losing _his_ clothes. But what if she lost hers? He blushed as his brain caught onto what his mouth implied.

Thankfully, Ginny shrugged him off. “It’s a drinking game, Harry; drinking games have to have consequences.” 

“Is this what US national team players learn their first year?” He was teasing, but he made a habit of not letting Ginny shrink her accomplishments. She didn’t much like direct compliments, but as much as possible, he tried to remind her that the summer wasn’t all a dream. Besides, getting his mind off of the _strip_ part of _strip-or-dare_ pong was a good strategy.

“Yes, now throw your ball!”

Harry lobbed it in the air, keeping his hand up, and it landed square in the middle of the cups.

Ginny pouted as she read the dare: _Let your partner massage your face with their feet._

“Good thing I’ve lost my socks already then, eh?”

“Ugh.”

* * *

Several boring dares later, and half of the cups gone, Ginny landed the back corner cup. 

Ginny hummed as she read: _Let your partner rip or cut up your clothing however they like._

“I don’t quite like this one.” Harry said, recovering the ball from the cup and flicking the water off.   
“Either you get to rip up my pants…” Harry trailed off. 

“Or you lose them,” Ginny said, wagging her eyebrows. She doubted Harry would pick the scissors. He was quite attached to his pants - these were a deep burgundy, with thin corduroy stripes to match the occasion. His Christmas pants.

“Easy choice then,” Harry said, setting his drink down and reaching to unbutton his pants. For a second, Harry’ sweater rode up to show a sliver of his taut stomach above the pant’s waistline, and Ginny’s breath caught. Her cheeks burned and her eyes fixated on that strip of skin even as Harry finished pulling his pants off.

That he was standing one-legged didn’t help. His leg muscles were clearly working hard to keep him upright, and Ginny wondered, for a moment, whether his remaining clothing might slip off, accidentally. It sent a warmth through her core to think about how they were alone in a cabin, slowly losing clothing.

As her blush grew, Harry remained oblivious. Still, the boy had good timing - he began to bounce a ping pong ball on the table to take his turn, which was enough of a distraction for Ginny to focus again on the game again. 

Mostly. 

She bit her lower lip, wondering if Harry would react the same way once it was her turn to lose more than a sock.

* * *

Ginny didn’t have to wait long to see. Harry knocked down a cup with a rather dangerous dare: _call your parents and tell them that you’re pregnant_. 

“I’ll pass on certain death, thank you very much,” Ginny said. “I’m sure you’ll appreciate that decision too.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not die either,” Harry replied, not realizing what exactly Ginny meant he would appreciate. He was in the middle of imagining the follow-up conversation - that it was just a dare, and that they had been playing a drinking game, and… -- and did his utmost to avoid that line of thought altogether.

It took him a moment to catch up to what Ginny was meant. She took an apprehensive step back, bit her lip, furrowed her brow, and slowly her fists closed until her hands found the hem of her shirt. Harry took it as second-guessing whether she wanted to ring Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at midnight over the holidays to pull a prank anyway. They were a few drinks in, and besides, it was rather cold.

But when Ginny began to lift up her shirt, Harry’s eyes blew wide open.

It was mesmerizing. He’d seen her in sports bras and bikinis and underwear before, especially in the warmth of summer and the rush of soccer practices. But tonight, bathed by faint yellow light in his family cabin, and a crackling fireplace drawing shadows on her torso, Harry felt _pulled_.

Ginny paused just as the shirt reached below her chest, left arms crossed, for a moment, and gave Harry a smirk. Then she closed her eyes and finished lifting the shirt above her head, tossing it to the couch nearby.

Harry froze completely, narrowly gripping the neck of his drink to keep it from falling. 

The smirk was one thing. 

He had half a mind to stop her right then and there and kiss the senses out of her, screw the game. But they had both silently agreed to keep vigil, saving the inevitable cuddles for the rest of the evening. The smirk, he’d seen before and could handle.

But tonight, frigidly aware that he was lacking pants, and rapidly realizing that they’d just crossed a new threshold of intimacy, Harry became transfixed.

It wasn’t that Ginny’s modesty was something to hoard or protect. Public nudity was the norm in the locker rooms they’d both been in, and she’d never been shy about her body. She’d worked hard to move (and look) the way she did.

Rather it was the casualness of it all - like she’d just gotten home from practice and was ready to hop in the shower. Though for Harry it was more than that - she had, apparently, neglected to keep a sports bra on. Because he’d seen her remove jerseys and hoodies with that same casualness, but now she was bare in a cabin and it took every ounce of effort to stay rooted on the spot he stood on.

Shadows danced on her skin.

“It’s okay, Harry. I just forgot a bra is all.” Ginny tried to hold back a grin, and failed not to laugh at Harry’s stunned expression. 

“I.. I -uh.” Harry couldn’t help his mind from wandering what else would come later that night.

Ginny’s reply came a second later, barely above a whisper.

“I trust you.”

Like she could read his mind, and his worries. They’d talked about sex before - and had always stopped just short. It wasn’t that they weren’t interested - more that they wanted to be able to know exactly what feelings came with the act. 

As Ginny walked back to her spot behind the table, Harry took a deep breath and smiled. His cheeks were still Rudolph red, and it was almost impossible _not_ to appreciate her toned torso (and the freckled valley that almost begged to be carefully mapped), but as he met Ginny’s eyes, all he could do was close his eyes and nod slowly.

It was an affirmation, as if to say: yes. I trust you too. Yes, I want the same thing you do. And yes, the time will come. 

After a moment, he found his courage.

“If I didn’t have a game to win…” he started.

Ginny threw a ping pong ball at his forehead, cutting him off. 

“We have all night for that Potter,” she laughs.

* * *

Harry’s next two shots missed horribly - one went well past the end of the table, and the other veered far to the left and became lost underneath the couch. 

Ginny didn’t hesitate to tease with a well timed, “Distracted, Potter?” before ruthlessly following up with two easily made shots, one of which was empty, and the other with a dare. 

“You’re gonna love this one Harry. _Dance without music for 60 seconds_.”

“Oh no,” he replied.

Harry, it turned out, was no gifted dancer, and his moves left Ginny roaring in laughter. It was strangely endearing for Ginny to watch - for someone so coordinated on the pitch, Harry’s sense of rhythm was off-beat. She gave a slow clap at the end of his time before breaking out into the worst of the moves - a one-legged chicken wing dance.

“You should have stuck to the stripping, Potter. I liked that better.”

Harry raised his hands and started “dancing,” but really he did some hip circles and sang, “ _Party for one… if you don’t care about me, I’ll just dance for myself_.”

Ginny, knowing exactly how Harry would respond, put a hand over her heart. “I’m hurt,” she feigned.

Harry just shook his head and arms and declared, “I’m going to make this next one.”

“And then what?” 

“It’ll your turn to be freezing your leg hairs off!”

“I don’t have leg hairs, Harry.” To emphasize her point, Ginny rubbed the side of her still-pantsed leg with her free hand. 

“Oi. I’m about to find out.”

“‘Sides, I’m cold too…”

“Stop being a minx and toss me that ball.” Harry patted the table for emphasis.

“Just don’t miss!” 

The ping pong ball clattered across the table, and Harry caught it swiftly and shot. It flew in a perfect arc, and it bounced off of the rim of a cup before landing in another.

“ _Harry Potter always scores,_ ” Ginny said, as she reached below the cup to get the dare, and paled as she began to read.

“What’s it say?”

She felt a flurry of butterflies in her stomach, and steadied her breath to read. “ _Let the other person undress you with their teeth_.”

“Oh.” Harry laughed and craned his neck to mime biting her pants and pulling them down. “This seems… challenging.”

“Not very confident, are we?” In truth, Ginny didn’t feel so confident that her legs wouldn’t turn into jelly the second his mouth came anywhere near her hips. Harry walking over to her didn’t help the matter. “On with it then.”

“What am I, a slave?”

“That’s a good idea isn’t it?”

Harry began to hum under his breath, making a show of walking with his hands held behind his back. _“You don’t want my love, if you don’t care about me…._ ”

Ginny chuckled and sang along, dancer her way to him. “ _I’ll just dance for myself..._ ”

“... _Back on my beat…”_

As he sang the line, Harry sank to his knees, and a bright red flush crept across Ginny’s face. He was still wearing his sweater, so all he could see was a mass of black hair and grey wool as he knelt in front of her. She teasingly pushed him, which put him off balance for a moment.

“Hey don’t do that!”

“Need a little help there?”

“I think I got it,” Harry replied as he leaned his head forward to nip at the hem of her leggings.

She felt a hot breath at her hip bone, and found her hands gripping Harry’s shoulders tightly, in part to make sure she could push him away if she needed to, and in other to take some pressure off of her poor legs, who were on the verge of shaking.

Having Harry kneeling in front of her did more for her than she realized, and Harry certainly noticed her tight grip.

“This too much, Gin?” he asked, and leaned back to look up at her.

“I… yeah. Just a little bit sexier than I expected this to be.”

“Can’t help being sexy, Gin,” he teased. She gave him a soft flick on the head.

“Oy.”

“I don’t think there is a sexy way to do this anyhow. Look.” As if to demonstrate, he tried to bite the hem of her leggings again and failed - his nose and face got in the way, and he couldn’t angle properly. It took him a few tries and a few grunts from Ginny, receiving the bumps of his forehead on her abdomen, before he figured out how to get to the side of her hip to get a good bite. 

Harry pulled down, and realized only half of the leggings pulled down; he’d have to do the same thing on the other side. 

By the time he’d gotten the leggings rolled past her hip bones, he stopped to sit on his haunches.

“This is not easy work,” he complained, exaggerating wiping sweat from his forehead.

“You need help?”

“No, I think I can…” He trailed off as he pulled her leggings down, biting the fabric just above a well-placed freckle on her left hip and pulling down, slowly.

What Harry failed to calculate was what remained underneath the leggings, especially as he found his face inches from another set of soft fabric. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but his cheeks were burning so brightly he felt like he would burn her.

Ginny couldn’t help but giggle at the face he made - eyes closed, brows furrowed, as if he was doing a task he didn’t enjoy. It seemed far from the truth, and she had mercy; she offered him one lifted one leg, then the other, and soon, Harry stood in front of her with her leggings hanging from his teeth.

“Success!” he said. His face read as glee, but there was something else in his eyes - the burning of his cheeks had risen up, and he could hear his heart beating wildly. 

“Hope you’re not that slow in the future,” she teased, giving him a well-earned kiss on the cheek.

“Next time it’ll be your turn - and I’ll wear something with buttons,” he countered. He took a breath to steady himself, and watched Ginny pick up the ball on her side. 

* * *

Ginny, of course, immediately sinks the next shot, and the dare is impossible. _Poop your pants right now. If you do, you win the game._

Spectacularly, it broke the mood and had them both roaring in laughter. 

“Why is that even a dare,” he said. “I am not trying that.”

“That’s your sweater then, Harry.”

Harry sighed. “Okay. How do you want it?”

Ginny thought for a moment. She hadn’t missed the look in his eyes, and wondered how far to press on. After a moment, she decided.

“Slowly.”

Buying Harry a turtleneck sweater was one of Ginny’s best ideas. Not just how he looked in it - it was cut just so that it draped exactly right over his shoulders and his upper arms - but the way he took it off. He grabbed the hem from the side and almost ripped it off of his body, and the fabric pooled around his shoulders, at the neck, for a moment before he bent to the side to finish removing it.

She saw his neck unexposed for the first time that evening, covered in goosebumps from the cold, and all she could think about was pressing her lips on the soft skin above his collarbones and marking it in red.

Ginny could tell Harry was cold. Despite that, the way he looked at her was anything but frigid.

There were still a few cups left, but Harry didn’t move to pick up the ball.

“I won’t lie Gin, I really don’t want to get naked because of a game.”

He had a point, and to be honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be completely naked at all. Not just the cold and the lack of a bed, but that was another big step. 

“Me too,” she said. “How ‘bout we call the score even?”

“Does that mean we both win?”

“Yeah. C’mere Potter.”

* * *

Harry found it difficult to walk over to Ginny. His legs wobbled with each step, and his breath was shallow and sparse. From his chest radiated a nervous burning, as if he was struggling to contain a fire. What was coming next - or what might come next - was something he’d tried very hard not to imagine.

Of course they’d been close. They’d slept over each other’s apartments, worked out together and taken dips in the lake, but there had always been an unspoken agreement not to cross a certain line. Tonight, that line grew thinner and thinner with each step.

When Ginny’s hands took his, and their eyes met, he realized they were asking each other the same question. _Is this the night?_

Their first kiss was tender. Their hands still linked, Harry slowly led Ginny to the couch, marking each step with a kiss. As the back of her calves hit the plush fabric of the couch, his hands found her waist. Her skin, having been exposed for most of the game, was cold, but Harry’s hands were warm, and as he pressed his fingertips into her skin, what goosebumps she had retreated.

All he could think about was how, up until now, every kiss they’d shared felt so far away. He wanted every second of his future to be like this.

Ginny pulled away first. She took a moment to kneel on the couch, wrapping her arms around Harry’s shoulders. From slightly above him, she could see the way his neck dipped into a valley just above his collarbone. She couldn’t help but bite her lips seeing Harry’s chest muscles rise and fall as he took deep, slow breaths.

Ginny’s lips met Harry’s skin, and Harry felt a wave of heat across his body, right down his spine. Involuntarily, he relaxed his shoulders back, and an arm drew up her back to guide her head closer to his skin. 

It was a rhythm they were familiar with. Harry’s small touches - behind her head, or along her back - were firmer as Ginny kissed more sensitive areas. Ginny, on the other hand, was quick to interject with groans when Harry was right where she wanted.

She bit the taut skin just under his neck and traced a trail of kisses up the side of his neck, before pausing just behind his ear. Endorphins rushed through Harry’s body, leaving him lightheaded. In response, he gripped her waist tightly, and the right words came easily, easier than they ever had before. 

“I love you Gin.”

Her reply was a hoarse whisper. She moved to just in front of his face, and he touched his forehead to hers as she spoke. “Love you too Harry.” 

* * *

With their foreheads touching, Harry led them both onto couch. The cushions were wide and easy to lay on, and Ginny easily wrapped her legs around Harry’s hips.

Since near the beginning of the game, Harry had been doing his best not to stare right at her bare chest. He’d met her eye when he could, simply looked off, or even focused on a freckle on her face or neck.

But now, laying under him with her cheeks flush, Harry saw an invitation to lay his attentions on Ginny. 

Harry started by pressing a kiss underneath Ginny’s jaw. He slowly trailed his lips down, leaving nibbles on the sides of her neck in between warm, slow breaths, which, along with some scruff on his jaw, left Ginny’s neck a muted red.

He traced a line of faint freckles down her sternum and followed the slope. His arms began to tremble just as he reached the valley between her breasts, and gave a pause, lifting his head to look at Ginny. She had her bottom lip between her teeth, and simply nodded to Harry’s unspoken question. _Is this fine?_

Ginny allowed herself to stay lost in Harry’s touch - it was new for both of them to cross such a boundary. But eventually, the pressure mounting from the blush in her cheek to the bottom of her belly made her restless.

“Harry, can we flip?” She put a hand on the back of his neck, ruffling his hair affirmingly. “I’m getting a little antsy myself.”

“Sure Gin,” came the reply. Harry sat up and leaned back against the arm of the couch by her feet. “You feeling alright?”

Ginny took a moment to stretch - noticing how Harry’s eyes followed the curve of her breast as her arms rose above her head.

“M’fine. That was… good. I just need a change is all. Besides, it’s your turn…” 

With that, she sank down, biting hard on the top of his chest, just above his heart. Ginny let her hands wander to his firm core, tracing his abdominal muscles, which strained at her touch. She flicked the few pockets of fat she found, drawing a huff from Harry, which were quickly silenced by gentle kisses down his breastbone. 

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed, in between the moments where his brain ceased to function, was their pace. Somehow they had stumbled their way onto the couch, and she was straddled on his lap. Despite being mostly naked in an unsupervised cabin, away from civilization, their kisses were incredibly slow and tender. It was almost a language of its own.

Her would catch her lip in between his and pause. _You’re beautiful_.

Then she would find his bottom lip and whisper back. _Love you_.

It was a dance, except his hands were on her hips, and his fingers pressed into her; and her palms rested on his shoulders, almost pushing him right into the cushion. 

* * *

The second thing Harry noticed was that Ginny had _noticed_.

They’d never done so much wearing so little, and Harry felt his shorts getting tighter, and the more he tried to ignore it, the redder his cheeks blushed.

He certainly knew that Ginny had noticed. Flush against her hip, she began to rock just barely against him. Then, every few seconds, between deep kisses and breaks to breathe, he noticed her inching her touch lower and lower.

Her finger left a long scratch across his chest, before her hand began to stroke across his breastbone, then his belly, and then lower and lower, and Harry longed for her to continue.

By the time her hand had found its way to his stomach, just below his navel, all Harry could do was stare her in the eyes. It was almost feral - every breath took his full concentration, and he felt himself burning up, soothed only by the coolness of her hand. 

Ginny’s fingertips slipped right below the waistband, and he held his breath. Harry felt the nerves on his hands and his thighs come alive, and he tensed his hips back to prepare. He could hear the sound of his heartbeat, and he felt warmth course up his spine in waves.

* * *

But Ginny’s hand paused.

“Harry. Harry I really want to.” Her other hand moved to cup his jaw, and she kissed him on the cheek.

Harry didn’t speak a word, but did his best to slow his breathing. Ginny, too, was still, and Harry eventually broke the silence, finally, finding his words.

“Maybe tonight’s not…”

Part of him wondered how to say it. Not what? An unsupervised weekend on a cabin was the perfect time, and the game they’d been playing was the perfect situation. Yet, there was something in the wildness of his heart that told him it wasn’t.

“... not the right time yet.”

Ginny shifted to sit lower on his leg. Her hands found their way to his, and squeezed. Then, she nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah. I love you, but --”

“-- But that’s another step we’re not ready for tonight,” Harry finished.

“And that’s okay.” 

Ginny kissed him, and turned to lay on him, back to his chest. Harry took the moment to reach behind the arm of the couch for a blanket, and laid it over them.

“We have a lifetime to get to that,” Harry said, after sliding them over to their sides, finding a comfortable position to hold her. “It doesn’t have to be everything now.”

“Plus,” Ginny supplied. “You looked like a deer in the headlights just seeing my chest, I don’t wanna think about what happens if either of our knickers come off.” 

Harry huffed a reply, burying his head in her hair, and holding her closer. “Speak for yourself -- I saw how you were looking at me earlier.” 

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Ginny said. 

“Love you Ginny.” 


End file.
